


Supernovae

by Bideroo



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: (Self-Indulgent Musings On the Cosmos), A Winter Night, Dying stars, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, Yukio Has Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bideroo/pseuds/Bideroo
Summary: Yukio contemplates the inevitable.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	Supernovae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BishieKeeper](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=BishieKeeper).



> This story is a gift for BishieKeeper. You wanted some Yukio, and I hope I've done him justice. <3 Thank you for your unending support, friend.

The air is still, frost winking like glitter on branches. His breaths puff dense and white from his lips, but it's been longer than Yukio can remember since he felt the chill.

Despite the idyllic beauty of the scene, Yukio only has eyes for the sky. The light had appeared a few days prior, catching the attention of the entire world. Captivating. Bright enough to be seen during daylight. To cast shadows at night.

Yukio's gaze falls to the ledge on which he's perched, holds out his hand. Marvels at the dark shapes he creates on the cool, white stone.

His mind ticks through facts. Trivia he's collected over a brief but intense lifetime spent chasing knowledge.

Betelgeuse. A red supergiant. Approximately ten million years old. 

Seven hundred light-years from Earth, give or take. And there's a majesty to that, Yukio muses, attention returning to the star. 

They may all be  _ seeing _ it now; astronomers and amateurs, housewives and businessmen… Saints and sinners and the folks, like Yukio, that land- reluctant and uncomfortable- somewhere in between. Everyone from tottering grandparents to bright-eyed children, staring in wonder.

Rubber-necking at a breath-taking end. Death-throes, beautiful because of their sheer agony. A staggering explosion so colossal the entire galaxy dims in comparison.

But the light reaching his eyes is a snapshot of the past. An image of a creature long dead. Seven hundred years ago, no one Yukio had ever known or loved existed. 

Across a distance so vast, even light bows to history.

Such a journey, long and unimaginably empty, just to end on Yukio's retina. It feels like a gift he doesn't deserve. Humbling, and so incredibly lonesome.

How trifling his worries seem, in moments like this, contemplating the scale of the cosmos and his own tiny place within it. The thought was comforting when he was a boy. Focus on what's important. Live your best and love when you can, because you are given so little time in which to do it.

Anymore… A silent laugh, sharp and unwanted, puffs from his nose. More kindling for the flame of his self-loathing. If his struggling is so useless, so  _ insignificant, _ why must it hurt so badly?

But the night is so lovely, and the star so bright. Cold crackles quietly through limbs, across windows, present but muted, leaving space for Yukio's thoughts.

And where was he, anyway, with all of that? Ah. Seven hundred light-years distant. Luminosity variable, but almost always one of the ten brightest in the sky. So large that if it replaced the sun, it would extend past the orbit of Jupiter. 

Awesome, in the biblical sense. Awe-inspiring.

Well. If it hadn't exploded. Yukio's mouth curls.

It certainly isn't something Yukio expected to witness. A stroke of luck, fate smiling on anyone fortunate enough to be alive and aware during these few years of visibility. How close had he come to missing it? 

How many times had he cheated death, already?

With a roll of his shoulders, Yukio ponders his textbooks. What will happen to the constellation of Orion? Or, more personally, Tsuzumi Boshi, as he'd learned as a child? Though that is hardly fair, either… While the stars of Orion certainly resemble a ceremonial drum, Yukio hadn't been able to see anything but an hourglass for years. Nothing but time, running out.

A memory rises from the welter of his thoughts… A girl, so long ago, smiling kindly over the sandcastle they'd built. She had told Yukio she liked his moles, that they reminded her of stars. The constellation Yuki-chan. He hadn't known what to make of it then, and the recollection brings no further clarity, now.

He wonders if she would still like it, with the new addition. His very own supernova, flaming blue in his eye.

Stifling a sigh, Yukio notices a breeze picking up. It's cold, but he isn't particularly concerned; the additional noise is more bothersome, truth be told. Makes it difficult to hear the sounds of a stealthy approach.

On nights like this, when sleep eludes him and his thoughts race, he's made a habit of sneaking from the room he shares with his brother. The solitude is calming, allowing him time he otherwise does not get to ruminate. To review, and to plan. To pretend he can still choose.

His destination changes regularly, of course… Rin seems to find him no matter where he hides himself away, and Yukio's ears are always listening, always poised to be interrupted. It occurs to Yukio that he's been posting up in this spot for the better part of two months, with no visitors.

Perhaps Rin no longer wishes to find him. The thought settles heavy in his gut, relief mixed with dread.

His heartbeat thumps steady in his ears, and he's still alive, so he raises his head again, contemplative. That's right. Betelgeuse.

The nuts and bolts of stellar life and death have fascinated Yukio as far back as he can remember, the subject so separate, so  _ far, _ literally and metaphorically, from the rest of his life. Enormous engines of elemental creation, churning out the building blocks of everything Yukio holds near and dear. 

Both far  _ and _ near, then. The contradiction doesn't bother him, but his eyes tighten, and he realizes his mistake. 

There is nothing he holds dear anymore.

Blinking slowly, Yukio lets out a breath, refocusing. 

Hydrogen to Helium. Helium into Carbon, Oxygen. Even a star like the sun manages this much before it peters out. But the giants, the  _ beasts _ of the universe, they take things further. Carbon to Silicon and Calcium...

Lips parting, Yukio imagines it, can almost see the layers building up. A star on the brink of annihilation.

Silicon to Iron. 

It goes  _ so quickly, _ then. A furnace burning for untold millions of years, but once it forges iron, it has less than a day left.  _ A day. _ The thought steals his breath, as it does every time.

He cannot help making a selfish comparison; he is teetering on a precipice himself, after all. His own annihilation is as inevitable as the one he is currently studying, a voyeur greedy for a glimpse of something he is unable to turn inward to see. 

What had been his Hydrogen? Love, perhaps? Safety? How quickly it transformed to weakness. Then weakness to fear.

Fear to hate.

He knows, because he's living it. There is no fuel that burns hotter.

Fists clenching, Yukio stands, considering the ease with which he could just… step forward. Fall. It's a desperate idea, and it elicits an honest chuckle from him before he turns, heading back.

Far too late for that. Things have been out of his hands for a long time, now. There are no more choices.

He wonders what will be left, after he explodes.

He hopes there is beauty.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize not everyone makes a hobby of cosmology, so in case it is helpful, I'd like to offer some clarification on the whole 'Yukio is looking at an image of a creature long dead' thing.
> 
> Light travels very fast; faster than anything else. But it still takes time for light to travel from one place to the next. When the distance it has to travel grows larger than our solar system, you begin to hear the term 'light-year'. This is actually a measurement of distance, not time. It is how far light can travel in a year. It is MIND BOGGLINGLY HUGE. But. Other stars are so, so far from us that it takes multiple years (in the case of Betelgeuse, approximately 700) for the light from that star to reach us. Meaning, if it exploded RIGHT NOW, it would be 700 years before we would ever know.
> 
> Basically, any time you look up at the night sky, you are looking back in time. If that isn't some of the coolest shit ever, I don't know what is. <3
> 
> Thanks for reading, friends.


End file.
